


Bound With Red Lace

by phantomzone08



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Doomed Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Good Intentions, Introspection, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomzone08/pseuds/phantomzone08
Summary: Lace is a delicate material, but wound just right, and nothing can break it. Lacie has always been a bird with clipped wings, but she is a bird that has tied many strings in her lifetime, ribbons made of red lace. Jack is bound the hardest by it, bound by and to her in every way possible. Red is his blindfold and lifeline, but she holds so many up so high by that thin fabric.





	1. Heavy In Her Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really loved the concept of it and it made me think of Jack and Lacie. To me, it just fits them both rather well, both so tied together and drawing life from the other, but toxic to each other at the same time.

**Heavy in Her Arms**

_Title inspired by the song "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence + The Machine_

* * *

Long silken black hair swayed around orchid ruffles, bows, and lace of her dress as she walked up the stairs of her tower, no, her prison. As long as she stayed in this tower, or on the Baskerville land, she was allowed to move, this raven with clipped wings. Perhaps it was better, protective in some ways since the world was never very kind to a "Child of Misfortune." Most days the young woman did not mind her cage, but at this moment, it felt suffocating. Her delicate, lithe, sprite like body hid so very many things behind a strong and unmovable posture with head held high. Lacie's pointed shoes clacked lightly but with a distinctive sound over the polished stone stairs, full skirt swishing at her ankles, her thoughts swirling around in her head like a whirlpool. She felt...heavy, so very heavy today. Everything was weighing on her. The future loomed dark before her, and the secrets she must keep clung to her like demons.

As much as she tried not to fear the things to come, there were so many things to worry over. Living a doomed life was not so terrible, it gave you a whole new perspective and outlook on everything. Having a known ending gave her an odd sort of freedom that no one else had. There was no reason to guard her words around powerful people, what could they do to her? She had no need to be kind to someone simply because they had money and might leave her some later, she would die first anyway. There was no reason to take care in leaving good impressions with others because they would all fade away. Most feared death, feared the future for all it might bring them. For her, she knew her own future so she had no such things to tie her down to the ground. She, like a bird, never truly landed, never stayed long enough to be touched by anything but the sky. She had no need to put down roots and set aside things to secure a future of good fortune as others did. This red eyed raven could look, and admire, seeing the great perspective of the world from her perch above it all.

Yet, even to a bird, there were strings that tied her to her existence, some things she did not wish to let go of, things that made it hard to fly. While she touched nothing, she also touched everything, and because she touched them, they touched her in return. She tried hard never to hold onto anything or anyone, knowing she would simply be forced to let them go eventually. Still, there were those that she loved on this place of life. She did not fear her own death, but she feared the loss of those connecting strings. With so few of them, she knew the loss of their presence would hurt. While she was no stranger to hurt, this felt different. Sometimes she found herself wishing, wishing for things she never intended to wish for, and could not have.

It was true, she did not feel things in the same way that others did, but that did not mean she felt nothing at all. People often thought her heartless, but her heart beat as loudly, if not more so than many that called her that. The issue was, those that lived to die could not live in the same way as others. The promise of death hung above them each day like an old, but strange friend, more a part of them than anything else. Those living with a clear ticking clock could either hide in a corner to count the moments in fearful waiting, or they could live in utter freedom, living to the fullest before that clock stopped. Lacie chose the latter, to dance in the rain, run through the midnight, laugh at what she pleased, and smell every flower before she wilted.

Her slender frame stopped at the top of the stairs, famed eyes snapping wide in surprise. The chilled, unearthly, classically fairy tale tower was not as vacant as she expected to find it. Her nest of solitude had been quietly invaded. Mixed in with the familiar parlor room lace, silk, stone, and damp scented air was a fresh taste of the outside only brought here by one person.

Curled up atop her bed, partially draped in her top cover, was a yellow haired kitten. Her supple lips tipped into a smile as she glided forward, the ever so slight hint of a frown lost, careful not to make a sound. Crimson eyes traveled over his long, lean shape slowly as she move to stand at the edge of her bed. A deep intake of air brought with it his refreshing and warm flavored smell of a red, white, pink, yellow, and black rose garden. As she leaned in closer above him she could catch the smell of white tea holding fast to his green dress jacket - She loved that on him, that coat trimmed with white and gold. She could not deny he was handsome, but he always had been, especially while he slept.

Those beautiful, all seeing, green eyes hid behind his eyelids. How long had he been waiting here for her to return? If he had known where she was, would he have still waited for her? Her breath came out in a silent sigh as she took in his angelic sleeping face, the midday sun sliding in the only window to play at those golden strands of his bangs and impossibly long braid - The rays almost made him seem to be glowing, lighting those champagne strands aflame. Yes, this little kitten would still have stayed even if he had known she was with Glen, Revis.

Jack Vessalius was unlike any other man she had ever known. Even her brother knew that the first time he saw him with those amethyst eyes of his, just as she had seen it. He had changed greatly over the time he had been away from her, but so much about him was the same as that moment she found him in that cold, snow covered alley. Like a feather drifting to earth, she eased down to sit beside him. It was nice to have him here this way. He could not see the lingering sadness in her eyes with his closed. Being close to anyone was so much easier when they were not aware you were there. Being a ghost to watch over them felt intimate, yet safely distanced. Safely, she could love him safely like this, not needing to be sure she kept all her closely held secrets from him. He looked so delicate while he slept, she could not help reaching out to softly run the tips of her fingers through tufts of hair nearest his perfectly molded face. Cream eyelids and dark lashes fluttered, making her jerk her hand back to her side. The damage was done, spell broken by her touch, like a kiss from a prince to Sleeping Beauty.

Light, imported jade, eyes drifted lazily upward, sleep hazed realization dawning as he whispered; "Lacie..."

Her lips parted as she allowed a musical laugh to grace his ears, "What strange ways I always find you, Jack. I never quite know what to expect out of you."

His ever so famous boyish smile greeted her as he sat up quickly, braid draping around him like a lifeless snake, "Lacie, you came back!"

Tilting her head, a catty expression slipping onto her smooth features, she arched a brow at him, "Where else would I go? If I am not here, eventually I will be. It is my home, after all... not to mention my bed you have been napping in."

His smile turned sheepish, adopting that cute, childlike expression of guilt, "Sorry, Lacie... I just missed you, so I-" He trailed off, leaving her curious at the rest of his answer.

"So you what? Wanted to be close to me?" Her black silk locks swayed away from her face as she drilled him with her eyes, "Don't tell me, you cuddled up in my blankets and smelled my pillow?"

Ah, the sudden blush bringing color to his otherwise pale skin told her she had hit the mark with that guess. Honestly, she knew him too well. It did not really shock her considering he always tended to smell her hair when he thought he could get away with it. She happened to know he spritzed a little of her perfume on one of his white handkerchiefs before he left a few days prior, not that she told him she caught it. Smell was one of the key triggers to memory and Jack was sentimental. Her long lashes fluttered as she shook her head at him, poking his forehead with her index finger for emphasis.

"Whatever will I do with you, hmm?" She chided him, but her smile betrayed the simple fact that it did not even phase her - Why should a bird in a cage be surprised when others stared?

Glen called Jack her "faithful puppy" and she supposed it was true, but only with her. With everyone else, he was a cat, sly as a snake in his ways, getting everyone to worship the ground he walked on. He was a skilled little cat, coming to others for attention only when he wanted it, and only when he deemed it helpful to him. Like every good cat, you never really would be able to predict him, pin him down, know where he was going, or see into his eyes. He was her cat though, and only hers. While he might purr for others, he only really wanted her. If she was honest, it was true, it made her happy to have it that way. In a world where nothing really belonged to her, even her own life, it was nice to have just one person that belonged to her alone.

Cupping his face in both hands, she leaned in to press her forehead to his. She really enjoyed his smell, he smelled of freedom. Twisted beneath the nose it was warm and of a sharp, woody musk, scented like rosewood, pine, and oak - So like the open air and all those trees he frequently climbed. He did try so very hard, the little dear. There were times he seemed such a child but other times he seemed old beyond his years. The way he could look at her now with such adoration in simply being near her made him seem like a pet, yet everything he had done to be here made him more a man than most any other she knew. He was so innocent, still climbing trees and dancing in tall grass... but so broken and ruined in other ways.

Life had really twisted him, and for that, she harbored some blame. "Jack..." If only she could voice it just once, how very much he meant to her, but more still how deeply sorry she was for the turns he had taken because of her.

Verdant eyes just stared at her, so close to his face, full of a worshipful admiration that nearly made her uncomfortable, "What is it, Lacie?"

Her wan smile likely did not escape his notice as she shook her head, "Nothing."

Ever so carefully, his eyes traveled over her body as she sat back, pulling away from that closeness. As if acting without thinking, his fingers moved to trace at the lace and velvet of the bow at her throat. His fingers never once brushed her skin, as if touching the fabric closest to her was all he allowed himself. There was a distance to his eyes as he looked at her odd form of a necklace. He was ever so careful not to cross the line. There was intimacy in everything he did with her, but also a careful distance that he never let slip.

"I will give you anything, or give up anything for you, Lacie. I hope you know that." His glassy, near vacant eyes drifted back to hers, "I belong to you forever."

"I know..." Her lips fumbled over the words, mind trying to think of something to say in return for such declarations of blind loyalty, "But you cannot give me what I want." Those were not the words she intended to say at all, yet they slipped out swiftly.

His thin brows crinkled together as he tugged at end of the bow, "Why? What is it you desire?"

Defensively, she pulled back, causing the bow to come undone, smiling coldly, "I want to see the ones I love be happy. I want you and everyone else to always be happy." The sudden, subtle edge in her voice signaled her defenses were beginning to crop up.

Jack's expression softened as he pulled the black velvet and red lace ribbon down to wrap around his fingers, eyes lingering at the newly exposed skin, "Maybe I can't promise it for others but I will always be happy as long as I can be with Lacie."

That was spoken so honestly but he had no idea at all that those words simply proved what she had already been thinking. Try as he might, he could not grant that one wish of hers, her wish for he and Oswald... the Core of Abyss... or even her still forming child. Her eyelids fluttered closed, lashes linking with unexpected moisture hidden behind them. Dear God, how could she ever fix this man? How could she keep him moving after the strings holding her here were cut? A reflexive smile covered her lips to shield her other emotions. It was obvious, she backed herself into a corner she could not get out of. Everything in her life was so out of control and she had neither the time nor wisdom to repair it all.

Her body acted on the singular thing she could think of to do in the moment, arms reaching for where she knew he was to pull him to her, never opening her eyes. The softness of his hair and skin slid against her hands as she touched him. His body moved without the slightest resistance, like water being shifted from one place to the next. Even though she was hugging him, he dared not touch her in return, not lifting his arms from the bed, simply melting against her as she directed. Oh God, he was just so broken! Her grip on him tightened as her arms traveled to circle his back. If she could simply absorb all of that from him, she would.

The tiniest noise of surprise slid past his lips as she pushed him back, following him down with her own body, letting gravity take them to the soft blankets. Her black velvet tresses spilled over him as she rested her head on his chest, tucked neatly under his chin. With great carefulness and even reverence, his hands finally moved, palms and fingertips ghosting over her back before relaxing to stay in place. A contented sigh was his reward for the brave little act. It felt good to be held by this man, as nice as when Oswald did so, but in different ways. It was comfortable with her brother or Jack, but not with anyone else. She loved everything about the way this felt with them, their firm chests, and strong arms there to shelter and protect her from all the things she hated to face. In their arms she could push the unpleasant things from her mind and simply relish the feeling of their shield. It felt good, like diving into a mountain of blankets and burrowing inside where no one could find her.

Her brows twitched slightly, fingers sinking into his thick coat collar. It felt nothing at all like that way Revis held her. When he held her all she felt was cold, indifferent loneliness. When she was with him she felt hallow, chilled, and slimy inside, like catching a cold while being forced to sit at a brothel. It felt frightening and sickening. When she and Oswald came here as children, she liked that man, but not for long. He became someone she feared and was disgusted by. It was true that she toyed with people, but the way he manipulated others was different. He was malicious even though he acted so carefree and kind. She knew his darkness better than anyone else, even more than Oswald ever could dream. She always hated him for how easily he told her of her death, so oddly happy about it... as if he had told her they would give her icecream at dinner.

Revis looked forward to her death as if it was something grand. Despite what he did with her, he did not love her. Maybe she was no expert, but was it not supposed to be out of love that a man slept with a woman? Were those things not supposed to be filled with love, those acts were supposed to be warm. The man was supposed to care about the woman he created a child with but she knew he did not. He would smile happily at her death, never lifting a finger to help her or ease her passing. When she died, he would stand close and watch every second with that smile of his. If it were Jack, he would fight to the death to rescue her. They had never done those things and yet he showed her more love than Revis had her whole life, even without touching her.

Lacie shifted slightly, sliding her knee to rest over those long legs. It was unmistakable the way his breath hitched, muscles all tightening a moment before he relaxed again. Her eyelids fluttered open, in deed of light to chase away the growing inner darkness. Every now and then, she did innocent little things to draw reactions from this man. She knew it was wrong or unkind, but she could not stop herself when the thoughts struck her to do it. She often found herself doing them when Revis crossed her mind, perhaps trying to get revenge on him in her own unique way. It was horrid to torment Jack and she wished she could stop herself.

It was true, she really was a child of misfortune, causing pain whatever she did, with or without intending to. Honestly though, she paid dearly for it all as well, guilt shredding her every day in times when she was alone, often haunted in her dreams. Soon enough, she would pay with her life too. Sometimes she though the misfortune traveled both ways, from and to her. Why she loved this horrible world, even she did not know at times. She was so messed up, fractured that she could be thinking one thing and do another. Without meaning to, she broke the people she longed to help. For that, she was glad punishment would arrive.

The blond twitched again when she shifted, this time unintentionally. It was slight, and controlled, but she could tell he was breathing a bit harder. Yes, he was still a man, but it did not bother her at all. Why should it bother her that he felt something like that for her, the woman he loved? It was natural and why should someone such as herself be bothered about such things? Her body was simply a thing and already ruined anyway.

Fingers traced the soft fabric of her dress lightly, brushing the buttons at her back in passing, but he did not move more than that. Her head tipped, moving with a rustle of fabric as she let it loll to the side of his shoulder, body tipping onto her side. She moved enough that she could look at him and he could look at her. His arms had to shift a bit to accommodate, but he touched nothing at all past her arm, fingers resting like a feather on her shoulder. He wanted to, she knew he did, but he would never, ever do it. She could see how much he wanted to be closer in the way those sparkling, love tinted eyes gazed at her; she saw the way the pupils dilated farther and farther the more he stared, that unmistakable tell of desire. His breathing grew more laborious with each passing moment, no matter how hard he tried to clam it. His lips parted, jaw slightly slack as he lie there beside her, how could she not see? Yet he never even lifted a finger to touch her.

Jack was not like any other man she knew. He never forced her to do anything, never even tried. When he moved, he allowed her to move him like a doll. Often as not, he would go nearly limp in her grasp, moving only when she commanded, as if he were on strings. She knew that if she told him to stop breathing, he would obey without a single question. This kitten never asked for anything from her, only seeking to be near her. In all the time he had been back, he never even touched her without her own initiation of the contact, never trying to make a 'move' the way other men did if given the chance.

Lacie knew this man better than anyone in the world. This guarded, calculating, deliberate, assiduous, cunning man only removed his mask for her. To all others, he seemed naive, careless, aloof, lackadaisical, serene, and childish. The third son of that family was a sly creature skilled enough to fool anyone with his acting. To others he was a strong, immovable force that could be as calm as a lake, or as powerful as a waterfall. She knew better though. Poor, tender, lonely Jack was weak, so very weak. He worked so very hard to hide it, but inside, he was just an abandoned puppy. Desperately, he longed for a home and warm arms to accept him for exactly who he was, but no such place had ever been open to him.

In all his sad past, she alone had ever offered him a genuine smile or cared enough to give him a bit of hope. A voiceless child, forgotten and faceless to the world, dead soul begging just to feel again. He was lost, unsure who, or if, he even was. Hope was something he needed so desperately, because he had none of his own. That was the very first thing she noticed when she looked into his eyes peeking out from under that thin, dirty blanket. She could see the total lack of life in him, the kind that came when a person simply stopped caring because they did not remember how to believe. Then and there, she knew he would die unless he found a reason to move. Humans could survive for some time without a great many things, but never if they lost hope. He needed someone, even just one person, to reach out a hand to help him onto his feet.

Sadly, only she had been willing to, a girl that could not stay beside him. Lacie was the only one that saved him from the darkness clawing up from inside him. He was so hollow inside then, but what frightened her was that he still was. Slowly, a little more life and warmth came into him each day she spent with him. Yet, at this slow rate, she did not have enough time to get him breathing on his own or make his heart beat.

Wary was all he was of her at first, but she gained on him until she finally drew out that gorgeous smile. From then on, he belonged to her, and only her. Jack became not only impossibly loyal, and in love with her, but also fixated and obsessively centered around her. He depended on her, made her his only "light", as he put it. He held no love for any in his family, though rightly so, but he held it no where else either. While he warmed to Oswald and a few others, he did not allow them close enough to bond with him. Granted, her elder brother was not a great deal better at allowing others near, it was different with Jack. The high strung, dramatic, flighty Vessalius was hollow. The face he showed to others was a learned facade, intended, and created to project a lively heart he simply did not possess. Everyone he knew only was allowed to skim the surface. He created a self that he wanted to be, and perhaps that was indeed his true nature, but he no longer remembered how to be alive, all except for when he was with her.

When he was at her side, he was happy and full of life. From her, he took his joy in existing. Maybe because he believed that she was the only one in the whole world that cared. That was not true, he had so many that would love him if he would allow them to, but he was blind to all of that. Behind those beautiful jade orbs was a lost, frightened, sad, and lonely soul that truly believed no one could care about the real Jack Vessalius.

Her smile faltered for only a moment, returning fast to replace it, eyes falling from his face so he would not catch the glint of sadness. This kitten would not want to let her fly, would not want to let her slip away from him, but he had no more choice than she did. Soon, she would not be here to protect him from himself anymore. She knew he would never be able to say goodbye. She could only hope the things she was leaving behind, the things she was entrusting him with, could fill the hole she was leaving in him. Perhaps she should never have flown down to touch this kitten at all. Maybe in saving him then, she also doomed him with her. Pale fingers slipped around to cup the back of his head, into his hair, pulling his head to rest at the curve of her neck. He shifted and wiggled to move into place.

She really had wanted to save him. Seeing those lost, dead eyes broke her heart. Honestly, sometimes she understood that feeling so much more than she could ever express, it connected them in some strange way. She wanted to give him a little hope, open his eyes to the beauty he could see, and give him a reason to keep walking. Yes, she wanted to save him, but seeing him now, she was not so sure saving was what she had done. The closer he became, the less she could protect him. The choices, for ill or good, had already been made, and there was nothing else she could do but continue walking. Carrying a life was a heavy thing, and she was carrying more than just his. Perhaps she had taken on more than her small body could lift, and in doing so, she would bring them all down in a fall. That thought, it terrified her. What if she could not lift them high enough to be safe before she fell into the abyss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story revolves mainly around Lacie and Jack, but not totally. I honestly don't see enough on Lacie and I think she is a beautifully complex character that does not always get enough credit. I felt so sorry for her from the start, she really never had a chance, but she tried her best anyway. She was so strong and looked out for everyone in her own way, or tried to. Everyone kind of used her, even the ones that loved her most. The manga is not even finished yet, and I know there is so much more to come in this AMAZINGLY TWISTED but GORGEOUS story. I wrote this anyway, because I just wanted to examine these characters more deeply for myself ^^ Hope you enjoy it!


	2. Heavy In His Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always struck me how careful Jack was with Lacie, treating her like a priceless treasure, never daring to cross any line most men would have rushed without blinking. He treasured her more than anything and tried so hard to make her happy despite all he knew she hid from him. Some of those things he carried before she died were heavy but after she was gone they became heavier.

**Heavy in His Arms**

__Title inspired by the song "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence + The Machine_ _

* * *

The looming clouds in the sky did nothing to dampen the young man's mood or turn down the smile he habitually wore. The air was not warm, blowing cool gusts occasionally as three people sat outside in the open area of the stone sculpted balcony. It was the peek of day but the sun being hidden made it seem nearer to evening. For the moment a stillness had fallen over the three, though, for his part, he did not know why. Something his dearest love whispered under her breath, so soft, like the fluttering of a birds wings, caused the mood to dim like the weather - Surely it was some two sided secret between the siblings, the two flawless creatures formed by the whims of the beings of creation itself to give the world something to envy. The blond would not ask, he did not dare meddle in something clearly personal, he respected them too much for that.

Jade eyes fluttered to the rich red underside, hardly visible beneath and beside black, of the cloak draped effortlessly over the second, darker contrasting man. Oswald, the touch of sable between two colorfully dressed individuals, his amethyst eyes watching the ground as if he was staring into the depths of the ocean, or perhaps something far more tenebrous. That stoic and unceasing expression held firmly to his face but Jack was sure the days like these were more to his taste than the brightness of others, unlike Lacie who thrived in any setting she was given. Those long gloved fingers of a pianist absently brushed a bit of onyx hair from his eyes as he took a sip of tea, not making eye contact with his sister if he could avoid it. Jack himself had always been more a child of sunshine than clouds even if the latter might have been more fitting to his veiled and guarded inner mannerism.

Really though, who needed to sun when your only light was sitting just across a small round table from you? Carefully, his eyes traveled to Lacie, adoration not particularly hidden as he stared upon her form. Crimson eyes that could hook into a soul and draw anyone from their shell returned his stare, triumphant smile slightly restrained upon her lips. The young Vessalius could not help feeling self conscious under her appraising, sagacious, quixotic red eyes. He always felt she might realize how far beyond his reach she was and how much he did not deserve to look upon her beauty. Someone such as he should be struck dead for even lifting his eyes to hers. He was a man with no value in the world, none but what she gave to him. Her existence validated his, giving his life purpose when it had none. His gaze fell to the tinted liquid held in by the expensive china cup, frowning when he saw his reflection there. With the lanky, dark haired man sitting so close to him it brought back an unpleasant memory, something that was a constant reminder of all he lacked.

Yes, he could play the part of the rich young man with all the world in the palm of his hand, and pretend the world would rise and fall on his whims one day, but he knew better. He was oh so good at playing his part - The role of perfect rising star. To all the world he was cheerful, kind, clever, popular, handsome, and anything else anyone wanted of him. Deep down though, he knew he was nothing, _nothing_ at all. Charm was deceptive, sincerity easy to fake for those skilled enough, and minds simple to twist. Beauty was fleeting as was the glamour of youth, but those things were his only assets. It was not as if he did not know he was a fraudulent, valueless, charlatan everyone would loath if he dropped his fabricated self. Still, being reminded of it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

According to Oswald he was; _"...Like a stretch of water so silent and still, even fish avoid it."_ Even fish, _even fish,_ that made it sound so horrid - Creatures that had no choice but to remain in water, even they would notice there was something intrinsically _wrong_ with him. He honestly never forgot those words, perhaps because they felt so horribly true. They just resonated with him so painfully he could never forget them, not any of the things said in that tiny stretch of time. He did not know Oswald at that point, but hearing him say those things hurt even though he had no understanding of why. Perhaps it also frightened him, hearing that said. Supposedly, they had never even crossed paths, yet that dark haired man saw something like that in a matter of moments; saw his lonely, empty, sad, solitude without trying. No one but Lacie had seen through his mask that way even though he was always with someone. Jack was reflective to the point even Oswald, so known for reading people said; " _you can't see his true nature_." That was a practiced skill, something he supposed he always had, but developed into an art form over time. He was good at keeping his true self hidden and only showing others what they wanted to see. Those violet eyes were terrifying, able to bore into anything with relentless intensity, but even they could not see everything.

In the beginning he hated that tall, hooded figure with those all-knowing eyes... some part of him still did. Yet, it was a little interesting how that first poor impression of a meeting inexplicably turned into a far more odd friendship than any he had seen before. The elder brother of his precious lady seemed to dislike him greatly, yet he almost never failed to greet the golden haired intruder. While his greeting was one of an indifferent expression, stiff posture, and crossed arms, little things spoke of a hidden alter emotion. There were many times the coal haired man went so far as to offer him a hand up, reaching down to his level to pull him back into the world, slightly like his sister. One could not simply read that expression and expect to understand the Baskerville heir. It was a bit funny, really. Lacie and Oswald were quite similar, yet utterly and polarly different.

The young Vessalious sighed, rubbing his fingers over his temple as that thought brought Miranda to mind. That woman and himself were a little alike too, in the way they both had an unhealthy obsession with the Baskerville's. He tried not to think too hard about her or the little deals he made with her. She could be a terrifying vixen, mad, a bit like his mother was. He knew how to handle her without the sudden loss of his own head all thanks to his mother. Dealing with such women or men was also an art form, a dance that was all about keeping ones balance just right. But none of that was what he desired to dwell on while he was here. Thinking of it while sitting so near Oswald made him feel a little ill. Giving a few more rotations of his fingers, he closed his eyes and mentally pushed away such dark thoughts. While he was on Baskerville land, he only wanted to think of Lacie.

A moist pink tongue slipped out to wet his lower lip as he realized with a healthy dose of dread that his sigh had not gone unnoticed by either of his companions. A slight chill of fear or perhaps guilt ran up the curve of his spine as Oswald eyed him curiously, not exactly altering his expression, just seeming to pose voiceless questions with those dark orbs. For the hundredth time of the day, Jack was grateful beyond all reason this stoic creature could not read his mind. The level of his discomfort continued to spike as those cursed eyes clawed away at his body second by second, making him feel as though he were sitting on pins and needles rather than a chair. As Lacie watched him drinking his tea he could tell that razor sharp mind was at work. It reminded him of a raven watching its future meal from its perch. Her eyes were curious and observant of every single move he made, taking it all in as if there was something she was seeking an answer to. All he could really do was smile every time he caught her eye, just waiting for her to reveal something. The tea cup made a clinking sound as he slid it into the molded curves on the matching saucer.

It tended to be wise, when under scrutiny, to be the first to speak, "So, what might the two of you have planned after our tea? Anything thrilling?" Jack grinned playfully at both of them, the contagious smile he always put on when he needed to hide his true feelings most.

A little tilt of his head and downward roll of his eyes indicated the raven's displeasure, "I am accompanying Glen into the city."

The golden braid slid over his shoulder as he leaned forward to indicate interest he did not really have, "Oh? Why are you going to the city?"

Those deep eyes rolled up again to stare at Jack, seeming intent to ignore the question from the long space of silence, but he finally muttered, "Business matters."

Jack let out a long musical chuckle, "Oh, I see! In other words, something wild and full of mystery that you will never tell me about." He winked at both siblings in one, "Honestly, I think you must both lead terribly interesting lives and just never tell me of all your wild adventures. For all I know, you own half the world under multiple identities and secretly roam about in one conquest after another." He let his voice turn dramatic, gestures momentarily animated like a practiced story teller, "I can _see_ it now! Oswald, _sword held high,_ riding into some wicked dictator's home on a _huge_ black stallion; Lacie _stealthily_ creeping up behind to catch him at _every_ angle of escape! _Two_ shining hero siblings _rescuing_ the innocent once again!"

Ah, there it finally was, a subtle upward twitch at the corners of Oswald's lips, and a playful roll of the eyes from Lacie.

"Wild is not how I would describe my plans for the day, I assure you, Jack." That deep, even voice was the same, but there was the slight tells of amusement in his dark eyes that made the silly words worth it - As long as Oswald was happy, Lacie would be too, and he wanted that so much.

"You have quite the imagination, Jack, almost making me believe it." Lacie grinned in that impish way she had, "Maybe Nii-sama has a string of castles and devoted concubines scattered over the world."

Shock registered in a flash behind those eyes before the expression was gone again, "No, I would be more inclined to believe that of Jack, he has more the flamboyant nature for that than I do."

The young Vessalius forced out a laugh as he shook his head, trying not to take Oswald's words as an insult, moderately sure they had not been intended as such. That man had a skill for wording things in the most insulting, weakness piercing way he could without even thinking about it. When embarrassed the Baskerville heir had a tendency to either clam up, pout, or redirect. Still, he had a point, there was no denying most people would be more inclined to believe such a story of him than they would the nearly always silent man. Most people thought Oswald would wither in place if an especially daring woman ever managed to get close enough to make a move on him. For all his cold seeming nature, the truth was more that he was shy and never saw himself as an object of desire.

The muscles in Jack's jaw tightened, that red haired woman coming to mind once again. Oswald really had no idea. The future Glen had no idea the power and sway he really held over others with not only his looks but his words as well. It was with words such as those thin lips had uttered to him more than once that planted ideas and devalued others. He should know, he used that trick enough times himself to be sure that it was the small things that could make or break human beings. Even so, he could not bring himself to be upset. Being insulted was worth seeing even that brief moment of humiliated horror touch that stoic face. Lacie was so good at bringing out those reactions when no one else in the world could - Getting his jaw to drop, or eyes to widen, or wrestling free a real smile.

"I will be leaving now." Silken red, gold, and black fabric billowed perfectly over that sculpted body, looking all the more expensive for being worn by such a man, as Oswald stood, "Good day to you both."

The tall figure hurried away, likely to avoid any further jabs to his pride and composure for the day. There was only so much the poor creature could take of this torment per day, so delicate in his own unique way. It was a little endearing. Jack started out of his thoughts as Lacie's delicate fingers ghosted down his wrist to slowly trace his palm before linking their fingers. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he stared, unsure why something so innocent could make him blush, but not daring to move. Her smile turned morbidly amused as she watched his face, taking pleasure in the way the color in his cheeks intensified when she lifted his hand to place tiny kisses over his knuckles. Perhaps to give him a minute to calm his heart, she let their hands drop back to the table, but never taking her touch away from him.

She had no idea how much it meant to him; that touch, that smile, her warmth, or her simple presence. He was sure she could never understand just how deeply he loved her, how utterly consumed his heart was in her. For a person with no value, one no one in the world really wanted, a dirty mistake, being held gently was special. Lacie wanted him and that meant the whole world to him. He was happy, and loved, and safe with her. It was selfish to love her because of that but he decided long ago that he would repay her that first day she cared for him. She saved him and he would gladly give her his every breathing moment for that.

The two sat in silence for some time, each seeming lost in their own thoughts, though Jack's focus was centered on her regardless of where hers was. He distantly caught the departing sounds of Oswald and Glen leaving with a fair number of others. Her grip on his fingers tensed until all sound was gone again. She always became strange...more ridged and guarded whenever it came to Glen. There were times he considered asking about that but knew better, or maybe he was afraid to know too much.

His lungs contracted in a startled intake of air as she suddenly moved in a silent, fluid motion. Those lithe, slender fingers sank into his hair like a fish cutting through water, stopping at the base of his skull. For a moment she simply stayed, leaning over him, staring at him with those eyes that could swallow any man whole. He held his breath, heart skipping a beat as she slipped a knee onto either side of his hips in the chair, her upper body just hovering over him. Her tiny form, a good three feet smaller than his, seemed all the more delicate at this distance. His own frame always seemed far larger, yet she somehow managed to make him feel small in her shadow. The slight cushion on the arm rests of the chair did little to hinder the bruising that would later appear on the pads of his fingers as he gripped them - What else could he do with these hands? Touching her in return seemed out of the question, out of reach to someone like him. Truly, he did not deserve to breathe the same air as she did, let alone touch her. The heart inside his chest pounded so loudly he had to wonder if she could hear it as close as she was. Ever so lightly, her breast brushed his chin, making his body all the more ridged - Ridged with what, he did not quite know, his mind not really working for him just now. Was it fear, nerves, elation, confusion... desire?

At last, he recovered ever so slightly from shock, lips twitching up in a nervous smile, voice barely responding to his brains order to beg the question, "Lacie?"

He tipped his head to the side slightly, reflexively, so as not to look at her supple neckline quite so directly. Honestly, he did not know what to do. How should he react? What did she want him to do? His cheek brushed the fabric of the dress, the frill at the neck line. Desperately, he willed his body to behave, not to give him away. He liked this, he could not deny that for even a second, but he had a feeling she did not want him to move. If it were someone else, this would not terrify him so, because he did not care about anyone else. This was Lacie, though, and he cared a great deal about her. If he did the wrong thing she might be angry with him. What if she got angry and threw him away? What if she stopped speaking to him? What would he do if he did the wrong thing? Other people were so hopelessly easy to read, but not so much with her. All he had to go on was a hunch, a feeling he got from her.

Her tiny hands never left his hair or their place at his face, the pad of her thumb tenderly brushing his cheek. Those crimson, terrifyingly gorgeous eyes simply stared at him impassively. Like a bird drifting from the air she slowly eased down to perch in his lap, clearly not caring how it would look if anyone saw them, shifting to look at him just a bit more directly. His smile faded as he stared at her, too confused to manage to hold it in place.

"Just as I thought..." She mumbled in a low, but electrically stunning voice that sent an involuntary shiver up his spine that he hoped she did not notice, "You are strange..."

Timidly, his doe eyes trailed upward, trying to look into hers more fully from his position, her fingers gently working the hair between them.

"Very strange." Lacie mused, sounding neither angry nor amused, simply factual.

Jack's fingers lightened their grip on the chair, body slowly, and oh so deliberately relaxing. He focused on his muscles, making them all go slack. She was too important to him to ever dare move on his own. It did not matter what she wanted, he would obey anything she asked of him. Body, heart, and mind, he belonged to her. The only betraying thing was the tiny little trembles that occasionally ran through him when he felt her fingers brush his skin, felt her warm breath, or allowed his mind to consider how close she was. Just now, he could hardly breathe, yet it was not at all suffocating to be this way. Truthfully, he could not have been more happy than he was at this moment. Every moment with her was beautiful, every second more wonderful than the last. He loved her so very, very much. It oozed out of his every exhale, every beating of his heart, and blink of his eyes. Perhaps she could see it in his eyes, his dazed, love drunken eyes. Maybe she could see the adoration and condition free love poring off of him to her in waves as he looked into her eyes, relishing the way she played with the long tips of his bangs. His lips were parted ever so slightly, jaw only slightly slack as he simply stared up at her.

They were the same in some twisted sort of way, which was why they could understand each other. No one, ever in his life, looked at his with anything other than veiled, or blatant disdain. All his life he had been hated. Once he met Lacie he discovered a kindred soul because she too had been hated simply for being born. Her life and his life were viewed as a sinful burden from the very first moment, they were abominations. Neither of them asked to be born, nor did they ask for that life, it simply was handed to them. It never really made sense why they should be hated simply because they existed. Could they help how they had been born? No one understood him like she did and no one cared to.

Lacie found him, she kindly cared for him, giving him a reason to look up from the ground. No one else cared enough to help him. No one else cared if he died in that cold place. No one else showed him a drop of kindness. Only Lacie! She asked questions, she listened to him, and even reminded him of the simple fact that he _was_ alive... and that being alive was _alright_! She showed him that she wanted him to be alive, no matter what, even if no one else did, and that was more than enough. She risked everything and protected him! No one else had ever done that before. Lacie cared, Lacie always cared!

He never really kept a wish until he met her because he knew how pointless wishes were. No matter how hard he wished for his father to come back so that his existence could be less than filthy, or wished his mother would love him the way he saw other mothers did, or wished she would stop hurting him, not one of those came true. Even his small wishes never came true, so he learned never to wish. That changed once she found him, he had a wish suddenly, just one. It consumed him and drove him forward in everything he did.

Once he finally found her, oh, elation did not even come close to expressing his feelings. After she whisked him out of Glen's office, took him away, and let him know she remembered him too... honestly, he never felt more happy in his entire life. Feeling her hands on his head, wiping away his tears, feeling the way she cared for him so delicately... nothing could compare to that moment. He was worthless, and he keenly knew it, yet she still cared about someone so filthy as he.

"You know..." Lacie's eyes seemed to darken, voice nearly edgy, "I never intended to love you."

His deep jade eyes widened as he stared at her, "Lacie..."

Those words were a confession far deeper than she normally gave anyone. She was very guarded in what she said to people close to her in a way she was not with those she had no affinity with. His heart fluttered as his cheeks heated, words playing over in his mine. Had not 'intended', which left the reality so very open even without her saying it. She never intended to love him, but the unspoken part of that was very simple, she did love him. Speaking of affection was hard for her.

"I love you, Lacie." His head tipped against her, so overcome with the need to be closer to her he could not help himself, but careful not to cross any improper lines even so, "I love you more than anything! I don't need anything in the world but Lacie. I will do anything for you!"

A deep breath against her skin brought in her scent of soft lilac and wild honeysuckle. They were strong and strangely overpowering yet gentle and understated all at the same time. Like Lacie the scents were each distinct and unmistakably unique but more beautiful than most any other. Wild honeysuckle was his favorite smell in all the world and he could never stop himself from fingering the lavender grouped flowers of a lilac tree with reverence. Whenever his lips touched her skin he could taste the sweetness of the honeysuckle, relishing how it lingered in his moth long after he pulled away.

She pulled back a bit to stare into his eyes again for a moment before reaching up to untie the lace bow at her neck, letting it slide free as he watched it touch places on her chest he never dared. Without a word she pulled the ends out between her fingers and reached behind his head, sliding the ribbon up to nestle over his eyes before tying it in place. He closed his eyes behind the red lace, eyelashes catching a little awkwardly when he blinked. It felt strange, but not harsh like the lace used for tablecloths, this felt softer. His body remained still, unsure what she was doing, but not intent to do something wrong. Nothing happened for a moment, but before he could even begin to prepare his mind, her supple lips captured his in a kiss more sweet than any he had ever received in his life. His body melted back into the chair as her small hands roamed over his chest. The fact that he could not see it coming made it more thrilling in some odd way.

Light kisses feather around the lace blindfold on his face to slowly trail down his jawline and finally his neck. He felt a tingling heat in his cheeks as he tips his head for her to offer up whatever room she needed. Once again his fingers dug into the chair to keep himself in check as her soft lips tease the lobe of his ear, tongue flicking out to leave wet, warm trails that turned cold in the outside air. As much as he tried not to allow it his breathing was getting deeper, more ragged, mind hazed by the pleasure of her touch.

"Can you see past what I've covered your eyes with, Jack?" Her breath whispered down his neck, making him shiver, just barely able to swallow a moan.

"No..." He breathed, body stiff as he held himself tightly against the seat, the hint of a frown hidden in large by the lace over his eyes.

The young Vessalius' heart skipped a beat, eyes jolting open behind the blindfold, throat tightening to hinder a gasp as her hips shifted on his lap and her languid tongue slips inside his ear in a quick thrust. The all too fleeting thought of a far deeper, darker, and more cryptic meaning to her words was lost in a blur of delight. It felt... more than incredible to be this close to her, filling him with so much joy he could have cried, but he did not dare make a move or a sound to show it. He had no right to enjoy this and he had even less right to act upon the pleasure. Just being beside her was intoxicating enough but this was more than he could endure or believe, so he would accept it quietly. Acting meant taking a risk and he did not want to risk losing her again, that fear had lingered in him since the first day he found her.

Without warning that warm, comforting, soft, curved body that had been so close was gone. It took him clamping his jaw shut to keep a whine from escaping for the sheer loss of Lacie. He could hear her feet tapping the ground as she moved farther away, heading for the door to this house. The urge to pull the ribbon away from his eyes was strong, he wanted to see her and know where she was going. He wanted to beg her to come back even if she did not want to touch him anymore, that was fine, he just wanted to be near her. Still, his hands remained at the arm of the chair, feeling her eyes on him even though he could not see.

"I will be back later, Jack, I have to do something before they return."

His chest felt heavy at her words, wanting to request she let him follow, but knowing the answer already. He wanted to go with her, he wanted to keep her in his sight. Oswald and Glen were gone, why could he not go with her now? What harm would it do? He did not want to be away from her even if she paid him no attention. Of course, he did not ask, he simply listened to the sad sound of feet over vacant floors as she left him there. Reluctantly, he reached up to tug the blindfold free, curling it up around his hand to be sure it was not damaged. His jade green eyes lowered to stare at the red lace he now held, feeling a loneliness without her. She had been so close and now she was gone. What exactly did she need to do while those two were away that she did not want him to see either? She should know he would never tell anyone and would never judge her for any reason. What matter could it be?

There was so much he did not know, and it weighed on him because he knew it weighed on her. There were so many secrets, Glen being one of the biggest he had found. The subject and the person were so cryptic. It worried him the way Lacie seemed to fear that man even if she hid it behind harsh tones. He still wondered what she was going to tell him just before Glen appeared after he first came to the Baskerville's. At the time he was so happy to be allowed to return he never really though much farther over it, but she was going to say something. The sudden arrival of that man, one that previously said so calmly that he could torture him to death if he desired, flustered Jack so much all previous thoughts vanished. Moreover, had that been fear in Lacie's beautiful, strong eyes? If he remembered next time he visited, he would ask her about that time, if he gathered his courage.

It was hard to know what to say when so many secrets hid in dark corners of the house, but he was not one to judge on that. He had far too many secrets of his own, ones he needed to deal with for Lacie's sake. Miranda was the biggest of those. Now that he knew more about this family, knew who Oswald was to Lacie, he knew he could not let that woman do as she pleased. As long as Lacie was alive, he would make sure Oswald was as well, no matter what he had to do to keep it that way. In a way he cared for that solemn man too, just not as much as he did Lacie. If he had to betray Miranda, then so be it. It was almost funny, the crazy way his life had so many strange twists. If it were not his own life, it would be an interesting story, but one he might never bother to read. Most of it was too twisted and fantastic to believe. Life could be sick and the people in it could be even worse.

While he did not care for the idea, he could always kill her before she got to Oswald. It was not as if she were some innocent little thing anyway. With all the blood on her hands someone was bound to come after eventually anyway. He spent too much time afraid of what she might do or what would happen if the world, or rather Lacie, found out about what they did.

"I wish all this was nothing but a ridiculous fairytale." He breathed out in a whisper.

Well, with the exception of Lacie. She was the beautiful princess and he was clearly the dark knight. Normally, people cheered for a knight in shining armor, or with a pure heart like no other in the land. Oh, but he was not that knight, he only looked the part. That did not mean he would not defend her to the death or fight with all his strength to win her freedom some day. He would be hers and stay by her side no matter what. No matter what, he would do everything in his power to care for her, keep her happy, protect her, and give her a good life. He would stay with her forever, follow her anywhere, and never let her be alone, because he knew she felt alone at times. With all his might, he would chase that lonely sadness in her eyes away whenever he saw it. It hurt so much when he saw pain pass through her eyes. It was hard to see her struggling and not be allowed to know why or how to fix it, but he swore he would take it all for her if she let him. He would die for her if he had to.

Each time she pulled away, not letting him help her, doing it alone, it killed him. Did she think he was not strong enough to protect both of them? Did she think he would betray her? If only she knew! If she fell apart he would be there to pick up the pieces. His whole life was hers alone because he loved her and now that he loved her he understood what love was. When you loved, you stayed by them no matter the cost, you did your best to give them the very best, you carried things they could not, you did anything you had to for their sake. Yes, that was what you did when you loved someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to show the things weighing on Jack, though different from what Lacie carried. Jack knew all along she was hiding things from him and I tend to think if you know the other person is struggling, knowing there is something wrong without knowing what, can be as hard (heavy) as keeping the secret. And I could be wrong but I think after the first little while, Jack had no intention of keeping his promises to Miranda. I don't think he would have ever let it happen before he lost Lacie because it would have made her sad.

**Author's Note:**

> This story revolves mainly around Lacie and Jack, but not totally. I honestly don't see enough on Lacie and I think she is a beautifully complex character that does not always get enough credit. I felt so sorry for her from the start, she really never had a chance, but she tried her best anyway. She was so strong and looked out for everyone in her own way, or tried to. Everyone kind of used her, even the ones that loved her most. The manga is not even finished yet, and I know there is so much more to come in this AMAZINGLY TWISTED but GORGEOUS story. I wrote this anyway, because I just wanted to examine these characters more deeply for myself ^^ Hope you enjoy it!


End file.
